There's just something about her
by El loopy
Summary: After that first meeting Azrael drops in on Ella any time she is in the neighbourhood, because there's just something about her... A series of drabbles about Azrael and Ella's friendship, with a little bit of Lucifer thrown in. Based on episode 3x25 'Boo Normal'.
1. Ella Lopez

**A/N Azrael said that whenever she was in the neighbourhood she stopped by to see Ella after that first meeting. That there was just something about her. Ella mentioned a few different past events and so the writing happened. The intention is for this to be a series of drabbles of under 1000 words, not necessarily in chronological order but I will give some context. There may be the odd Azrael and Lucifer scene thrown in there for a little bit of variety. Talking about Ella of course.**

* * *

Ella. Ella Lopez.

Azrael walked slowly through the scene of the accident. Torn metal scattered in twisted lumps that were once cars. There were whimpers and sobs and pain, but she blocked it out. She had done this so many times she was immune. It was a job, that was all. With practised ease she folded away her wings. In this age it was more beneficial to assist recently dead souls in a human form. When they saw angel wings they tended to panic. No one wanted panicking souls. They made things…messy.

An object lay alone in and amidst the chaos, out of place. Azrael bent down and placed a finger lightly on the teddy bear, lying in a pool of fluid. A mixture of blood and engine oil. Its fur matted in the two contrasting colours. Something that felt a little too much like an emotion flashed up and she snapped her hand back in response.

"His name is Senor Bear."

The voice was small and so very quiet. Azrael froze, lifting her eyes to alight on the child. Dark hair framed a face consisting mostly of wide, innocent eyes.

"Its okay," the little girl told the Angel of Death. "It will be okay. You don't need to be scared."

Azrael felt the words like a needle, hot and fierce, tears suddenly needing to be quelled. This child was not a soul to be reaped, so how…

"You can see me?" she managed, and the girl nodded. The child's fingers opened and curled up again, as though clutching around the bear.

"They said I was too old for Signor Bear," the girl said seriously, "but I said you're never too old for Bears." There was a flash of a smile in her eyes, a childish joy, a glimpse of the real her and then it was gone again. Azrael felt the loss physically. It was as though a light had been snuffed out. It was of fierce imperative that it be rekindled.

Eight-year-old eyes looked around at the carnage as she started to tremble, her voice emerging cold and strained, ready to snap. "There's so much blood."

"Hey, hey," the Angel of Death found herself crouching in front of the kid, shielding her view. "Yeah, but let's not look at it okay?" Behind the child was an open car door. "That where you came from?" The little girl nodded, and Azrael did a quick reconnaissance. No detached souls. "Let's get you back there then." She reached out for a small hand, but one was not offered in response.

"I came to help," the young girl told the angel in an almost firm voice. "Let me help, please."

If she had been prepared to forget this girl after this encounter, all chance disintegrated in that moment.

"We need to get you safe first," she told the child and received a reluctant nod in response. Again, she held out her hand but instead found herself enveloped in a hug. Small arms wrapped around her tight.

"I'm Ella. Ella Lopez."

Azrael's family didn't _do_ hugs. Taken off-guard the angel froze until the human withdrew. The contact was awkward but…nice. Every warning she'd ever been given about interacting with humans vanished in the face of this Ella. A golden warmth was lighting up her insides where only icy dispassion had been a moment ago.

"I'm Rae-Rae."

Odd that she would hand out her childhood nickname on such a whim, but out it poured, easily and ready. A soothing balm.

"Rae-Rae," Ella repeated. "I like it."

"Let's go over here Ella," Rae said quietly, coaxing the child out of harm's way. People were rushing over to help. A siren could be heard in the distance. Her job wasn't over yet.

"Hey, you know what, Ella, people can't usually see me."

"Really? Are you like a ghost of something?" Ghost. No wings. That made sense to a child.

"Yeah, and you being able to see me? That makes _you_ pretty special. So, what I'm going to do is come back and see you some time. If you'd like."

Ella beamed, the situation momentarily forgotten.

"Sounds great."

"All right. Great." The Angel of Death smiled at the child and it felt good. "Okay. Smell ya later Kiddo," and then she vanished from Ella's sight.

She still had a job to do but somehow, in spite of it, she felt a little better about herself than she had before.


	2. Special

Special

"So, why could she see you?"

The lights were turned down low, so all Lucifer could make out of his little sister was the vague outline in the darkness of his sofa. An arm curved into the shadowy light to take the offered glass, before retreating back out of view.

"I'm not sure," came the stoic reply and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Come now Azrael. You haven't travelled all this way to give inadequate answers." He sat in a chair opposite the cloud of darkness and leaned forwards, hands clasped around his glass. "You came to talk about Miss Lopez. How you met. You desire me to listen." He opened his arms wide with a flourish, careful not to spill his drink, giving a devilish grin, "and here I am." He eased back in the chair settling his arms along the edge with artless grace, "So speak."

"I don't _know_ how," the Angel of Death repeated, finally leaning forwards into some light so her big brother could read her face. "Maybe I let my power slip a little. I felt…something when it happened. Maybe I wanted to be seen." Her voice became more agitated, more animated and then abruptly she cut it off. Lucifer was watching her, silently, intently and inside her came a wave of warmth, of peace. She knew this feeling. This moment. This Bond. It was familiar. She smiled. Her brother knew it too. He smiled back. For that moment there was no anger, no hurt, no relationship needing repair. They just were. It broke with a flash of memory in her sibling's face, a closing off, but it had happened, and she would hold onto it.

"There is another possibility I've considered," she continued, fixing her eyes on the glass that she twisted and turned in her hand.

"Oh," Lucifer asked, intrigued, "and what is that?"

Rae-Rae couldn't help the curl of her lips in a half smile, wistful as she said, "You've met Ella. So positive, so full of faith." The word was a clap of hands in a silent hall. Lucifer gave a small flinch at the loudness of it, even though her voice had been hushed.

"I have indeed met Miss Lopez," he conceded a little testily, "as you pre-arranged."

She ignored the jibe.

"Well, the other possibility is that Ella is just…special."

She made sure she locked her eyes on his as she said it and he stared back levelly, not retreating with even a blink. There was a prolonged silence before he replied, the air heavy with words, too weighty to move on. When he did speak it was measured, pressed down and carefully sifted.

"Yes," he conceded, for once in complete agreement. "She is definitely special."


	3. Legit Crazy

Legit crazy

Something was…wrong.

Azrael materialised in the bedroom of her very human friend _(Its not like Daddy said we_ couldn't _have humans for friends, Amenadiel!)_ and immediately sensed the off-ness about it. The air tasted stagnant. Old. Shadowy, like a mouthful of dust. She scanned her senses automatically for souls, living or deceased. None of the latter. Just the one of the former, thankfully, as it should be. Except it wasn't as it should be, that was the source of the wrongness. This was _Ella's_ room. Ella's room was usually full of light, and colour. Curtains thrown open. Posters slapped on walls. Hundreds of cut outs of bands; Duran Duran on one wall, controversially Spandau Ballet on the other, and cars and her latest fandoms all overlapping, competing with each other for space. Usually there was music on the radio cassette. Usually there was Ella, with a big grin, jumping up from her bed and hugging, tugging Rae-Rae over to show her something. Always delighted to see her.

No one jumped up to greet her. The curtains were folded shut on the world, muting the colours into greys, making the posters unseeable.

"Ella?" her voice drifted out into the void of silence.

Silence! There should not be silence. It was broken by a shuffle of sheets. A lump under the covers moved and a tousled face turned in her direction.

"Oh, hey," the voice was tired, disorientated. "Rae-Rae. _You're_ here." Her voice brightened for a moment, although her eyes were half-shut. "I knew you weren't a figment."

Azrael approached the bed with an unhappy frown.

"Are you sick?" she demanded, concern making the words harsh. Ella didn't even notice.

"In the head apparently," she mumbled. "Doctor says I'm legit crazy." She tried to grin, but it was weak at the edges, like the elastic had faded. Azrael felt a rush of horror.

"What?"

"Doctor said I needed to take these pills to make you go away." Ella gave up on the smile, her face washed out. The teenager looked much too old in her eyes. "I don't like them. They make me feel bad." She sighed like a weight pulled her down. "You're still here though. That's good. It means I'm not crazy right?" The question was rhetorical. The answer obvious.

"Hey," Rae-Rae tried, making her voice light, more buoyant. "Why don't you get up and we'll go out? Sunshine will do you good. We'll get ice-cream."

Ella tried to smile again, and Azrael felt the effort of it.

"No. It's a nice idea…but…" she struggled with her words. "I'm suffocating, up here." She sluggishly tapped her head. "Too hard to think. Too hard to care." The girl's eyes fluttered shut. Azrael felt a blanket fall over her own heart.

"Ella," she said with pained strains.

Ella's eyes fluttered back open. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Bad day today. I need you to go."

The Angel waited a beat before responding. "Can I just stay? To be with you. I won't speak."

The smile Ella gave her was so worth it.

"That'd be nice."

It was a true Ella smile, an echo of its former glory, but neither forced nor fake. Rae reached out and took Ella's hand, holding the small digits more tenderly than she'd imagined she could.

"Thanks Rae-Rae," the young girl offered dozily and shut her eyes. It was a long time before she actually slept, as though it wasn't something she wanted to do but it was the easiest option of all the others that she didn't, but it gave Azrael the chance to come up with a solution to their doctor problem.

Once her friend's breathing had evened to slumber Azrael extracted herself. She had places to be and people to convince that Ella was sane, just different. One thing she knew for certain; somehow, she was getting Ella off those drugs.


	4. Car thief

Car thief

With a quick, final glance over her shoulder Ella slipped open the car door and into the driver's seat. The interior of the car embraced her with a cloud of suffocating warmth.

"Poor baby. Have you been left outside alone all day?" she murmured to it as she went through the motions to start the engine, as smoothly and gracefully as a dance routine.

She was rewarded with a growl as the engine came to life and she pulled away from the curb, easing the car up and through the gears as the speedometer climbed and they escaped from the city. Only now did Ella fully relax. The setting sun cast long shadows, fading to twilight and a peaceful sensation of just _being_ settled over her.

"I can't believe you are doing this," came a voice.

Ella yelped, swerved, brought the car back under control. Heart hammering, she cut her gaze to the driver seat where Rae-Rae sat, arms folded, giving her a 'look'.

"You can _not_ do that!" Ella shouted breathlessly, heart still hammering.

An eyebrow was hiked in her direction. "Why not?"

"Hello!" Ella drew out in a 'duh' one hand leaving the wheel to gesture at the road. "I'm driving here."

"Yes. I can see that." A dramatic pause and Ella knew what was coming. "In a _stolen_ car."

"Yeah, well…" she had nothing to finish with.

"Did your scumbag brothers put you up to this?" The accusation exploded like a burst tyre.

"Don't call them that," Ella muttered, jaw clamped together.

"Which one?" Rae-Rae pressed on relentlessly, voice an angry lecture as Ella's jaw tightened. "It was Ricardo wasn't it?"

"Look," Ella said slowly, eyes determinedly on the road. "He asked me for a favour. This is his business now."

"Oh, stealing cars? Stealing cars is a business?"

Ella continued over the interruption. "He asked me because he knows I'm good at this stuff, picking locks, driving stick. Its _nice_ to be helpful." Ella smiled a little, voice turning wistful, "and I sorta enjoy it, you know?"

Azrael was still unimpressed.

"We need to find you a better hobby," the invisible friend slash ghost muttered. "I mean what are you going to do if you get arrested? That will be your whole freaking future gone…"

Ella's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, wistful look vanished.

"Will you cut that out," came the uncharacteristic snap. "I enjoy this. I'm being helpful. You know, it makes up for being the crazy sister who hears voices. They accept me the way I am, and this is just a way I can say thank you."

Rae shook her head.

"They take _advantage_ of you. They ask because they know you're too nice to say no to them."

Ella drove in silence for a couple of minutes, swinging the car back towards the city and the place she was supposed to leave it. The whole experience had soured and now she just wanted to get out of the car.

"What about the police?" Rae continued, either oblivious or uncaring. "You always wanted to work for the police. Why don't you do that?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Ella exclaimed with a bitter, exhaled bark. "The cop sister with the car thief for a brother. You want them to stop talking to me forever?"

Rae didn't speak for a beat in which the word "maybe" floated indiscriminately before she spoke for real, face twisted incredulously.

"C'mon. Are you serious? You just argued that you're the crazy sister who hears voices and they still accept you. Do you _actually_ think joining the police is going to be worse?"

Ella tossed the idea like a bone to the shadowy forms of her brothers, constructed from memory and experience, and watched them tear it apart like ravenous dogs.

"Yes, actually," she replied with conviction.

Rae almost visibly deflated for a moment. "Yeah, well, screw them," she muttered.

Ella pulled the car over and stopped, turning off the engine.

Azrael wasn't done. Ella stared through the windscreen and listened but wished she couldn't.

"The little girl I first met got out of a car to help people in an accident. She told me that her brothers said she was too old for Bears but she had-one-anyway." There was a triumphant gleam in Azrael's eyes as she passionately declared this.

Ella ran the pads of her fingers over the wheel, examining the whorls of skin on the grooves of plastic.

"Yeah, well. That was before, all right."

A whip crack.

"Before me?" The voice was quiet, subdued. Ella shut her eyes, pained.

"Before the accident. Before I was crazy."

"Before me."

Silence descended over the car, just the quiet ticking of the engine. Ella snapped to a decision in her mind and opened her eyes.

"Rae-Rae…" She turned to an empty seat. Her friend was gone.

Ella exhaled slowly and got out the car with all due deference, carefully shutting the door.

Her eyes ran over the sleek body.

"You stole a freaking car, Ella," she muttered to herself, mimicking Rae-Rae's voice. She imagined for herself a future where this was what she did, with tattoos up her arms, a shotgun over her shoulder, and in the present a smile tugged her mouth. She'd enjoy it. It would be fun, but never legal. She wouldn't really be helping people.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to look…" she said to herself lightly.


	5. Miss Lopez

Miss Lopez

"Sooo…you and the Detective…whatsername…Chloe…"

Lucifer turned to look at his little sister from his position at the private bar with narrowed eyes.

"What about her?" he replied dangerously, knowing full well that Azrael was aware of the name of Ella's closest friend.

"How's that _going_?" Rae was looking at him with wide innocent eyes. He didn't buy it.

"To what are you referring?" he countered with feigned indifference. Azrael gave an appreciative glint. She knew the game he was playing. Even after several millennia apart he could not fool his baby sister.

"What do you _think_ I'm referring to?"

Lucifer put down his glass at a table and sat in his favourite chair.

"What's this about Azrael?"

The Angel gave an indifferent shrug, affecting a wounded air.

"Why's this got to be _about_ anything?"

Lucifer grinned and leaned forward. "Deflecting won't work. I taught you that, remember."

Azrael sighed, voice pitching higher in defensiveness. "Look, I just wanted to know how you and Chloe were doing. I hear you make a great team." She paused and added, "Just like you do with Ella." Lucifer felt his jaw tense a little in anticipation of what was probably coming. "I know you and Chloe," she bobbed her head at each name, "were kind of a _thing_ for a bit but then – you weren't – so I just _wondered_ …"

"Yes, well," Lucifer cut her off, dropping his eyes to his glass and back up, "I think that's quite enough _wondering_ , don't you?"

He abruptly stood and stalked to the bar. Azrael rolled her eyes.

"Amenadiel said you'd get tetchy if I brought up Chloe."

"Oh? He your source of information, is he?" came the snipped response over his shoulder.

Azrael got to her feet and followed him, leaning sideways on the sleek polished surface, one palm flat.

"C'mon Lu. Where else was I gonna get the deets?"

Lucifer stared straight ahead, resolutely ignoring her.

Rae-Rae raised her eyebrows. "The silent treatment. Really? _That's_ mature." He still didn't respond, just took a frosty sip of his drink. Just like Miss Lopez, his sister had to fill a silence. She only waited a beat before imploring him again. "Look Lu. I just want my two favourite people to be happy…"

His eyes flashed to her.

"What do you mean?"

Azrael huffed and folded her arms.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this but Chloe," she raised her eyebrows in a _'I can't believe you haven't realised this'_ expression, "bit uptight."

Lucifer felt his fingers flex on the glass, the surface crack a hairline.

"Really?" he purred dangerously.

"Yeah. Waaay too much for you. You need someone more…loving…more open…more spontaneous and fun…" and suddenly he saw it. He saw exactly what she was getting at.

"Oh…like Miss Lopez you mean?" he offered with a flash of an all teeth smile.

Rae widened her eyes in false amazement.

"Yeah, you're _right_. That does sound a _lot_ like Ella. Maybe you two should…"

Lucifer cut her off with a raised hand, the smile gone. "No."

Azrael pouted, clearly put out. "But you haven't…"

"No Rae," he repeated more firmly, and she was so thrown by his use of her nickname that she stalled. "Don't go there."

"But Lu…" she re-joined, as the glass in his hand shattered, effectively silencing her. Lucifer brushed the shards from his unblemished skin with intense focus, before finally looking at his sister.

"Miss Lopez is…" he was unable to make himself say a friend, even if it were true. He was unable to make himself say special, although that were also true. "Miss Lopez is…Miss Lopez." That he could say, and it conveyed what he meant if Azrael's irritated huff was anything to go by. Ella's essential Ella-ness must be preserved.

Rae-Rae did not respond, so he knew he'd won.

"As for the Detective," he gave a devilish grin, "you should see her when she's been drinking."


	6. Card counter I: Disappearing

**A/N Thank you for the reviews. I am making a note of all the ideas/prompts/requests that are coming and plan to get around to them so please keep them coming. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one.**

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Card counter I: Disappearing

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Yet also a very good one. The cards flash out to the other players. She can feel the smooth heat of her own under her fingers. Everything around her is noise, and lights; clangs and flashes. Her focus, though, is on the cards. It all narrows to the cards. The rest is merely a distraction.

"Ella!" The voice is near but far away. Usually she is unable to ignore it, but she finds that it is easily pushed aside, fading out. Her fingers rest on the heartbeat of her cards.

"Ella!" More insistent.

"I can't hear you," she replies with a whisper. Deep underneath she feels a flutter of panic, knows that she is running away, but it all levels out at this table, with these strangers.

A hand touches her shoulder, bare above the dress. She shrugs it off.

"Don't touch me." A bite to the words and the players next to her shuffle a step away, eyeing her nervously.

They don't see the angel at her shoulder, fingers hovering anxiously above her skin, not quite daring to let them land again.

* * *

"Ella, please. There are better options…"

Azrael can feel the things her favourite human, her friend, can't. The desperation in the air. The toxic blend of lust and greed and envy. She imagines Lucifer would love it here. That causes a pang of grief. She hasn't thought about him for a long time.

She can feel death in each breath another player at the table is taking, his eyes fixated on Ella's growing pile of chips.

The twenty-five-year-old won't listen. It had been a bad week, a really bad week. There had been shouting, some of it at Azrael. She would have left if Ella hadn't decided to take off to Las Vegas. This place turned her Ella into someone else entirely. That flame of hope, of positivity, was a glowing ember. A wisp of smoke.

"Ella, look, I won't interfere anymore. We need to talk. I'll leave. Just…please!"

A hand flutters at her dismissively, the other tenderly resting on her meaningless pieces of paper. Ella gives an instruction to the dealer. More cards flash out. Ella's eyes watch them all, darting, her mind sifting, flickering, calculating.

She makes a decision. Earns another pile of chips.

The man at the table, who reeks of death, check his pocket then settles back, waiting. Azrael's eyes narrow at him. With three measured steps she is close enough to lean over to whisper in his ear.

"You lay one finger on her and I will personally be escorting you to my brother when your time comes." He cannot hear her words, but she sees him shudder, expression a little less certain. "Someone walk over your grave?" she taunts him.

In her efforts to deter a murderer, Azrael doesn't notice the other humans, the ones in suits, that interrupt the game. She doesn't realise they are there for Ella, until they are dragging her friend away. All Azrael can do is watch and follow.

* * *

Ella sits in her car letting herself feel the physical pain, imagining bruises blooming across her skin. The shirt she's changed into hides most of the evidence.

Her eyes catch the waiting ones in her rear-view mirror. She grimaces.

"Don't."

Rae-Rae doesn't say anything for a beat but can't quite help herself.

"You've had better ideas to get rid of me."

Ella rolls up her sleeve to check the progress of the pain into a visible mark. "Yeah, well," she rolls the sleeve back, focusing on keeping it smooth. "This is the only one that works."

The pause is loaded with hurt, but she ignores it.

"You scared me today." Ella turns in her chair to look into the back seat. Azrael is frowning at the ceiling of the car as she speaks. "You promised me you wouldn't do that, disappear like that." Ella finds it interesting, the use of disappear. Physically she'd not gone anywhere.

Ella sighs. "Well sometimes I need a break, Rae. Sometimes I need to not feel crazy."

"The next time I'll leave." Her eyes drop and lock, so Ella can see how serious she is. "Don't come here again." Her tone is almost pleading, fearful. "You stop being you."

Ella feels the truth of it like a weight. She remembers the feeling of the cool hardness in her mind as she lays the cards, weighs the odds. Calculating. It was a welcome relief, but it was not her.

"All right," she agrees, "I get it. Vegas, whilst fun, is not good…"

When she glances in the mirror Azrael is already gone.


	7. Card Counter II: Magnificient

Card counter II : Magnificent

"You're taking her to Las Vegas!"

The shrill shout caused Lucifer to raise his head from the suitcase he was methodically packing and raise his eyebrows at his sister.

"Good morning to you too, Azrael."

The Angel stood in outraged indignation in the middle of his bedroom, the light from the sun casting her in an ethereal glow, an image she shattered by scowling at him.

"…and, yes, I am taking Miss Lopez to Las Vegas for a birthday surprise." He said it with all the ironic mystery he could muster. "It was the Detective's idea. I'd offer for you to come along but that might ruin your whole 'I'm-a-ghost-and-nobody-can-see-me' cover." He gave her a patronising smile and she fumed.

"Lu, you _can't_ take her to Las Vegas. Do you even _know_ what happened the last time?"

"Yes, actually," he straightened up and faced her, voice strong and indignant. "She flirted with a poser of a detective, dressed in this _delectable_ outfit, counted some cards, danced in a cabaret and helped me catch a murderer. All-in-all we had a delightful time."

Azrael was left in a stunned state, all manner of complicated emotions flitting across her face.

"She went…with you?" There was a weakness to the question, a waver, and Lucifer eyed her steadily, giving away nothing. The righteous anger had gone out of his sister's wings. She stood a little slumped, looking defeated. "Did she…stay Ella?"

The question knocked the edge off his indignation, his forcefulness.

"Yes," he responded, voice a little less harsh, "she was very much Miss Lopez." He remembered how much _more_ she had been, like grime wiped away from a mirror, letting it reflect more clearly. Azrael watched his thoughts cross over his face and her insides twisted painfully. Hurt and envy and relief.

"Because you were there," she tried not to let him hear the strain, but he did, naturally. He didn't comment. "You kept her safe."

She didn't say Guardian Angel. He heard it anyway. His mind flinched away from thinking about it directly, but sometimes he like to look at it sideways. Turn it over, consider it, without actually putting it on.

"She counted cards?"

His attention returned to his sister. Her back was straight again, tense, her mouth pressed in a thin line, and the penny dropped. Miss Lopez's odd words when he'd questioned her about her talent.

"You're the voices in her head." He levelled it as an accusation without intending to and saw his sister flinch incrementally in the flicker of an eyelid, a twitch of her wings.

"You said she counted cards." Azrael was unwavering in her questioning. "Did she stay herself when she counted cards?"

 _Her rejection had felt like a cold slap. He was used to having any and all attention whenever he desired it but the second she saw the tables he had ceased to exist to her. His words became her irritant, his presence an unwelcome burden. She had shut him off so completely that he hadn't fully processed it before they were interrupted. After that she'd turned into this magnificent, strong-willed, defiant creature that stared down their suspect with utter fearlessness. A whole new side to her that he felt privileged to see. It had pushed the previous incident out of his mind. He did not like to recall the bad._

Azrael read the answer in his face.

"She disappeared, didn't she?"

He did not respond.

"She's been able to count cards since her brothers taught her as a child. Happens every time…." Azrael trailed off and took a breath. "If you insist on taking her to Vegas, Lu, please don't let her disappear."

He was silent for a moment, making sure that when he spoke there would be a weight to it, levelling his gaze on hers so she could see it.

"I give my word," he uttered with finality and saw the tension ease from his sister's shoulders.

"Thank you," and then she was gone, leaving him alone in his bedroom with a half-packed suitcase and a responsibility he had never asked for.


End file.
